


Throw Your Heart Up

by orphan_account



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: DONT LOOK., Emetophilia, Masturbation, Vomiting, fucked if true
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Good, he thinks. Just like that, I'll choke to death.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Throw Your Heart Up

**Author's Note:**

> dont look ,
> 
> thanks [REDACTED FOR PRIVACY] for betaing for me youre a real one bro
> 
> PLEASE read the tags before you go into this not to sound like a 2010 sasunaru writer but . dont like dont read. im . Ashamed? Somewhat.

The choked, strained little panting noises Mayoi makes with each stroke of his hand are disgusting, he thinks. Everything about this whole situation is. The cool shine of the bathroom light makes the whole room seem almost _clinical_ , and the boy is faintly aware of the soft buzzing noise from the lightbulb.

Like this, Mayoi’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s not human--he never really will be, no matter how hard he tries. Not that he minds, really. He’s cold in the room, but there’s that searing heat in the pit of his gut, warmth dusting his cheeks. He gently squeezes his hand around the base of his cock, and that makes him let out a soft whine—gloved fingers jammed in between his teeth, he’s only able to focus on gratifying himself.

Which, in itself, is inherently _disgusting—_ it's selfish of him. Does a filthy bug like him really deserve to feel pleasure like this? Mayoi has always been greedy; he’s self-serving, truly evil, especially when it comes to matters like this. Desire, affection, romantic or not, he’s always been inconsiderate, always only had his own satisfaction in mind.

Tonight too, he’ll indulge.

Letting out a small hiss as his thumb stimulates the head of his dick, he pushes his fingers further into his mouth, until they lay flat against his tongue, the taste of leather strong. Saliva leaves the black material slick, and drool spills out from the corners of his mouth.

This isn’t quite enough, Mayoi thinks. Inhaling deeply through his nose--tensing, because his other hand squeezing around his hard dick just feels _so_ good. His fingers venture a little further into his mouth, triggering a stuttered breath from him. _Good_ , he thinks. _J_ _ust like that, I’ll choke to death._

The movements of his wrists speed up, and he closes his eyes; internally chastising himself, _look, look at just how repulsive you are, you have to look,_ but he can’t bring himself to. It’s so shameful, he wishes he could die. What kind of revolting, pathetic, perverted loser jerks off on the bathroom floor at 4AM? The Mayoi kind, he supposes. Reluctantly, he opens his eyes again. It’s the same sight. He opts to focus on the bathroom tiles instead of… what he’s doing. It’s obtrusive, in his line of sight though, disgusting to look at but it just feels so good, he can’t stop, it feels so good it’s _disgusting, disgusting, disgusting—_

A particularly pleasurable stroke makes his fingers flinch, jamming themselves even further down into his throat. His previous heavy panting is interrupted by an intrusive _retch_ , and Mayoi's movements stutter for a second. A small voice in the back of his head sounds concerned, but _fuck_ that felt kind of nice, so he does it again.

“U-U _ueee_ h—”

The drool’s dripping from his mouth onto the tiles now. Bowing his head forward, he jabs his fingers down his throat again. Another dry heave, with a disgusting “ _huueh,_ ” and he can feel tears prick at his eyes that time. He’s only faintly aware of the hand around his cock speeding up, subconsciously, and his hips twitch into his fist. Mayoi wonders just how far he can push this. What if he goes too far? An image of his insides spilled all over the bathroom floor drifts into his mind, but _it doesn't even seem that bad—_

And before he can even register it in his mind, he’s shoving his fingers down his throat again, _forcefully_ this time, and he feels his head spin; completely overwhelmed, because there’s a sudden burning in his throat, surging its way up and coating his fingers as his mess bubbles up over his lips and splatters onto the pure white tiles with an —

“Uuu, _uueeeuuhghhh—_ ”

— and his entire body lurches forward, stilling as he empties his guts on the floor. There are tears dripping from his eyes now, landing in the repulsive puddle right in front of him. The burning feeling in his throat is persistent, and all he can taste is the sour, acidic remnants of his stomach. The stench fills his nose, and fully overwhelms him, but for once…

For once, he feels just at home. Body jerking forward one last time, he feels like his mind has cleared itself. He spits on the ground, to get any last remnants out. Breath coming in hiccups, he slowly, shakily pulls his hand away from his cock, gently examining it.

The black leather is shining, sticky with translucent white fluid. Ah. He finished without even realizing, but he doesn’t even have the energy to berate himself. All he can do is tiredly tuck himself back in, do his pants back up, and then his eyes trail back to his mess.

Disgusting, repulsive, foul. That’s what’s transpired here, yet he feels just right. With a weary smile, he stands on shaky legs to begin his search for a towel.


End file.
